Transformers: Energon - Redux
by dragonkeeper19600
Summary: Ten years after the end of the Great War, Autobots, Decepticons, and humans are working and living together peacefully - that is until a new mysterious threat emerges. Old wounds threaten to reopen and new alliances threaten to sever as the inhabitants of both Cybertron and Earth struggle to struggle to prevent the Great War from starting again. A rewrite of Transformers: Energon.
1. Chapter 1

The nights on Cybertron even _smelled_ wrong. As the boy scraped his palms over the jagged ground that had been long ago thrust towards the sky, he could taste the wrongness all the way down to his lungs. The nights on Earth smelled of water, wet grass and crystalline droplets sent by sprinklers to glint momentarily in the porch light. It was a smell that stuffed your airways and made you feel full. The air could be gulped and savored and could send you off to sleep with aching limbs and sweet dreams. But on Cybertron, it was different. Each cloud of ancient dust kicked up by his sneakers sent the unstirred funk of ages into the air. So much time had passed since the air had been scorched, and yet it remained tainted, and though the air was now cool it still left an acrid burn on the in the throat and nostrils that would never entirely fade. The history of this place could be sampled in its air, and it was a history of sparks and smelting, charred metal and blasted glass.

Of course, Kicker did not comprehend all of this. But he did not need to. There was no mistaking that forlorn atmosphere even as he scrambled through it. Sweat twisted his hair, and he felt a raw burning in his chest which flared in rhythm with the pounding of his pulse in his neck. And still he didn't stop. Not until he heard that voice seemingly rumbling over the very sky.

"Kicker!" Optimus Prime called desperately, "Are you in here?"

Kicker clapped his hands over his mouth to stop himself from screaming. People in movies always screamed before the monster got them, so if Kicker didn't scream, the monster would never come. If he were calmly sitting at home, home on Earth, Kicker would have been able to admit to himself that that logic made no sense, that monsters in real life wouldn't follow any such rules or obey any such sequence of steps, but right now Kicker wanted the rules and steps to be true so he could cheat them.

"Kicker!" Prime called again. The sound bounced against every empty ruin. "Don't run! I promise I'm not going to hurt you!"

Kicker scrambled into an open doorway, many, many times his own height, and curled into a ball pressed up tight against the wall. In the shadow of the ruin, Kicker squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fists into his ears, willing the monster to go away…

The ground trembled with every titanic footfall as Optimus Prime gingerly stepped over debris it had taken all of Kicker's energy to climb over. He scanned his optics over the jagged landscape, casting a bright yellow glow over that deepened every shadow. Behind his closed eyelids, Kicker saw the accompanying dull red fill his sockets, and he felt tears leak out the corner of his eyes.

"Please, Kicker! You can't be here! It's not safe!" Prime sounded desperate now. "Tell me where you are, and I'll come find you!"

Kicker couldn't hold it in anymore. "Shut up!" he yelled. "I want my daddy!"

"I can take you to your father, Kicker!" The relief in Optimus Prime's voice would have been clear to anyone else. "Please come back with me! He's worried sick about you!"

"Liar!" Kicker screamed. Prime's footsteps came closer. What dim light that entered the structure where Kicker hid was soon obstructed by his towering form. Kicker unclenched himself and kicked his heels against the floor, propelling him backward, deeper into the darkened space beyond.

It happened so quickly that only Kicker's body was able to process it; his thoughts were too slow. Just as he had placed his left hand against the floor, it had given way, and all the nerves in Kicker's left side lurched sickeningly and he tilted through the gap left by the panel that was now clattering distantly in the vaulted space below. Kicker didn't see the panel fall, couldn't see that he was now falling the same way, slipping from view as easily as a coin slips through fingers. The last things he knew before everything went black were the square window racing upward as his own voice tore up to follow it and the distant echo of Optimus Prime frantically crying his name…

* * *

 **Transformers: Energon**

 **Redux**

 **Chapter 1**

Ocean City couldn't have picked a better day to rise. Many times the inhabitants had looked forward to their break from the endless indigo of the sea depths and had been disappointed to be greeted with gray skies and pounding rain once they broke the surface of the water. Few things were more disheartening than looking out of Ocean City's gigantic windows, which were over six inches thick, and seeing the flash of lightning when one expected to see sun. The city was below the sea more often than not, and to not get a proper amount of sunlight before heading back under often felt like an extension of a prison sentence.

But, thankfully, it was not so today. The sky was a pale blue bleached almost to white at its zenith, the clouds were few and pleasantly fleecy, and the sea was calm, gently falling over the city's domes and towers like rainfall as the thick rods supporting it from below slowly extended, pushing the city and everyone inside it into the air. Finally, as the sun gleamed off the city's glittering white flank, the enormous disk which formed the city's base came to slow stop level with the water, and it lay still for an instant, quietly drying in the summer heat.

But the stillness did not last for long. A loud metallic groaning resonated in the endless space around as a thin strip of concrete emerged from a slot hidden in the city's side. As it extended to its full length, another slab emerged out of the sea as the stand supporting it from below slowly unfolded. This was followed by yet another and still another, all rising like a film of dominoes played in reverse. Soon, a road was formed, straight as a ray pointing to the coast a mile away. The surface of the road was formed a parabola too slight for the human eye to notice, which allowed the saltwater to stream through the gaps in the guardrails. Before long, the road was dry, and the heat that rose in waves off of it tasted of salt.

Within the city, the drivers, human and otherwise, received the signal that the road was ready. Eagerly, they drove up to the gate, where the guard was already waiting, towering above the hood of even the largest truck. With the push of a button, the gate opened, and the first in the convoy departed. So it went with the second and third.

When the fourth truck pulled up, however, Demolisher held out his hand. "Hold it," he said.

The truck screeched a little on the asphalt. It had been expecting the same go ahead as the others and had been caught off guard. "Eh?" it asked, "What's going on, Demolishor?"

Demolishor's expression bordered on grim. "Open up the trailer, Roadblock. Now."

"What for?" Roadblock protested. "You know what's in there."

"No arguments! Just do it!"

Roadblock sighed. A car behind him in the line honked. "Fine," he said.

The trailer door slid open. Demolishor leaned closer to peer inside. His Decepticon insignia reflected the red gleam from Roadblock's Autobot symbol. Time was the sight of the two insignias so close together would make one or both bearers nervous, but times had changed.

The light from Demolishor's purple right optic glowed steadily, illuminating the crates stacked inside the trailer. Demolishor's eyes narrowed, and he growled: "Found you, Kicker."

"What's that you said? Kicker's back there?" Roadblock repeated dumbly. "When did that happen?"

"You mean you don't even know?" Demolishor snapped.

"Are you sure, though? I mean, I didn't even hear anything, or-"

"I'm sure the little punk dumped out some of the cargo and climbed in there himself when you weren't looking!" Demolishor snapped. He turned his attention back to the trailer. "Listen, you brat, you better haul yourself out of there before-"

But Demolishor was momentarily stunned into silence as a bright yellow light clicked on, plunging the rest of the interior into darkness and throwing its beam directly into Demolishor's optics. Demolishor squinted as the aperture in his optics shrank and the sound of an engine revving reached his audios. Before he could adequately react, a motorcycle jumped over the bed of the trailer, knocking aside crates which tumbled into the road. One crate was knocked open, spilling its glowing yellow contents.

"Ah! The Energon!" cried Demolishor, as the human driver behind Roadblock popped his head out of the sunroof to see what the commotion was about.

The motorcycle landed and turned sharply as if spun by hand without pausing.

"Too slow, old man!" Kicker laughed, as he jerked his hand forward on the handle.

"Why you-!" Demolishor spluttered, but Kicker was already tearing off down the road.

"You're not getting away with this, you little monster!" Demolishor shouted. He pushed his way past Roadblock - whose only protest was a slight "Hey!" - and transformed. Soon, a heavy green tank was proceeding down the road after the boy.

"Demolishor! Come back! You'll tear up the road!" Roadblock shouted, but Demolishor showed no signs of slowing down. Roadblock sighed and pulled away, leaving his trailer and its fallen contents behind.

Decepticon or not, tanks were not built for speed. It didn't take long for Roadblock to catch up with Demolishor. As soon as he was near enough, he transformed and vaulted over the tank pressing down only briefly with his hand before he landed back in vehicle mode in front of an even more outraged Demolishor.

"Go back, Demolishor," said Roadblock, cutting off Demolishor's stream of half-coherent grievances, "I'll get Kicker for ya."

"Wha-? What makes you think you can give me orders?"

"I'm faster than you." Roadblock pulled slightly ahead to demonstrate. "If you want to make yourself useful, you can go back and pick up the Energon he knocked over. I'll be back in a jiff." And with that, he pealed away, leaving Demolishor behind.

Demolishor transformed and stood scowling in the middle of the road, watching the Roadblock and Kicker disappear into the horizon.

"Autobots!" he fumed, "Humans! I'm sick of all of them!"

Meanwhile, up ahead, Kicker's heart was pounding. He felt the rush of the wind spraying sea salt into the bangs swinging free of his helmet and the cooling stream of it against his ears. Grinning, he took in an open-mouthed gulp of the blue air. He felt a compulsion to close his eyes, and simply feel the sensation of speed and motion and light whirling around without shapes the ground it, but even he wasn't foolish enough to drive a motorbike with his eyes closed. Instead, he popped a wheelie to make the road drop away.

His front wheel hit the pavement again when he heard a car horn go off behind him. He looked down into his rearview mirror and glimpsed Roadblock coming up behind him.

"Kicker!" Roadblock's voice sounded as if projected from a speaker. "Pull over!"

Kicker snarled and hit the gas. The engine of his bike whined with the effort. By now, Kicker had caught up with the convoy and was forced to slow as the back of the trailer came bearing down upon him. Kicker's eyes darted to either side of the road before he made his decision and pulled into the left side of the road.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," Roadblock moaned.

Kicker's bike roared as he picked up speed again, whooping and hollering as he zipped past the three vehicles, whose drivers stared in shock, one of them wondering as he leaned out his window: "Say, isn't that Dr. Jones's son?"

In the next moment, the radios of all three crackled as Roadblock's voice was heard over them: "Gonna need you guys to stop for now. Need Kicker off the road ASAP. I'm coming up on your left."

Obediently, the line stopped. Roadblock tore past them before swerving again into the right lane. He could see the splotch of color that was Kicker, still on the left, growing larger as he grew close to it. With a final push, he pulled ahead of the bike and, after going a little farther, turned sharply so that he lay perpendicular to the road, blocking it from either side. He waited, pleased with himself, until he saw Kicker roll to a reluctant stop.

"Gotcha, kid," he said. "Now we- Hey!"

Roadblock sat dumbfounded as Kicker dropped the bike with a clatter and bolted. He was almost over the bed of the truck before Roadblock recovered himself enough to reach out an arm and grab him by the back of his jacket. He transformed, holding Kicker in front of his optics with a half-frustrated, half-impressed expression.

"You're a real piece of work," he said. "You know that?"

Kicker glared back. "Bite me."

"Charmer, too." Roadblock bent down and picked up Kicker's bike with his other hand. He weighed it his hand. "Might put a stop to your stunts if I flattened this. What do you think?"

Kicker gnashed his teeth. "Don't you dare!" he yelled.

"All it would take is one squeeze," said Roadblock, grinning, "And I'm not sure you deserve a motorcycle, after what I saw today."

"If you break it, you'd better be ready to pay for it!" Kicker snapped, "And that bike's worth enough to buy the parts for a second hunk of junk like you!"

"I wouldn't be so rude if I were you," said Roadblock, lowering the bike gingerly to the ground. "You're in a lot of trouble, Kicker. I hope you realize that. Me thinks Hot Shot will want to hear about this."

Without waiting to see the very ugly look Kicker shot his way, Roadblock placed Kicker back on the ground and transformed, being careful to block the road again. His front door swung open, showing the empty driver's seat. "Get in."

Kicker didn't move. His eyes flicked outward, to the sea.

"What, you planning to _swim_ to California?"

Kicker rolled his eyes as savagely as he could manage and lifted his bike as slowly as though it pained him to do it. A minute later, both were heading back the way they came, the motorcycle rattling in the bed of the truck.

Demolishor had finished reloading Roadblock's trailer by the time the two pulled back up to the gate. By now, a lot of the human drivers had exited their cars. One of the Autobots in line was now in robot mode, leaning against the gate with her arms folded. Demolishor seemed very pleased to see Kicker sitting with his arms folded in the driver's seat.

"Here's where you get out, kiddo," said Roadblock, as his door flew open. Kicker climbed down slowly, his face burning.

"Good call on searching the trailer, Demolishor. How'd you know he was there?"

Demolishor's face split into a wicked grin. It didn't suit him. It was the only expression that could make him resemble the war machine he once was.

"Call it a hunch," he said.

"Nice instinct," said Roadblock. "You think you can handle escorting the perp to Hot Shot?"

"With pleasure."

Kicker pulled his bike out of the truck as the lounging Autobot scrambled back into position. Roadblock backed up and reattached himself to his trailer.

"Be careful. That one's slippery," he said. "Alright, folks, roll out!"

The rest of the convoy moved away. Soon, Kicker was left alone with Demolishor. He had just removed his helmet and had hung it from one of the handlebars when Demolishor reached down and scooped it up.

"Hey-!"

"I'll take that," said Demolishor. He held out his other hand, a heavy metal block with silver protrusions for fingers. "Climb on."

Kicker grimaced and stepped back. "You'll think I'll let you _carry_ me in there? What am I, a toddler?"

Demolishor growled, and the tips of his fingers retracted to reveal gun barrels underneath. "Would you rather be escorted at blaster point?" he snarled.

"Do what you want," said Kicker, shoving his hands in his pockets. Without a glance behind, he strolled past Demolishor and back into the city.

Demolishor gnashed his teeth and followed after him. "You think you're real tough, kid," he fumed, "But you're nothing but a spoiled brat! You ought to be grateful I caught you; you could've killed yourself in there! How the Autobots put up with you humans is something I'll never understand! You all think you're so smart, that rules set by those _older_ and _wiser_ than you are just not good enough! But you, you're the worst of all of them! Why should we have play babysitter for you when we have actual-?"

Kicker made an effort to pretend that what Demolishor was throwing at him didn't interest him in the slightest, but try as he might, Demolishor's words seemed to cut into him like the blades of a juicer. Being careful not to look back at the furious Decepticon behind him, Kicker peered up towards the walkways above. Now that enough water had run off the sides of the city, the large windows and roof had retracted, and many of the city's inhabitants were stretched out above on lounge chairs, soaking in the sun, no doubt to the envy of their colleagues who still had to work indoors. Ocean City's robotic inhabitants, both Autobot and Decepticon, were always amused by the humans' craving for sunlight, having no real need of it themselves. A group of children were ecstatically feeding pieces of a hot dog bun to a seagull that had just landed nearby while a nearby Decepticon laughed, and Kicker tried to focus on them, but…

"-always acting as though _we're_ the bad guys! The way you behave, you'd think we were _beating_ you or something! You act so tortured, but you've never really suffered a day in your life-!"

Kicker whirled around. "Shut up! You don't know anything about me!"

Demolishor snorted. "What's there to know? You're a human! What could you possibly have seen? Or done, for that matter? You've had the softest existence-!"

"You think _I'm_ acting smarter than I am," Kicker shouted, "But who are you to tell me my life is easy? You don't know me at _all!"_

"Even if there _is_ more to you," said Demolishor, "Who cares? You don't exactly make people want to find it! You expect us to care about you when you're so nasty all the time?"

Kicker blinked, then turned away. His eyes were burning. "Shut up," he muttered, more quietly this time.

Things didn't improve when they reached Hot Shot.

"He did what?" The exclamation went right through the walls, and Kicker was sure everyone in the command center had heard it. He definitely saw a passing Mini-Con look up at the sound. Hot Shot in general was more collected then he'd used to be, making an effort to appear more authoritative in front of others. But it seemed Kicker's actions had blown that facade away.

Humiliatingly, Kicker had to wait outside the closed door while Demolishor went inside to speak to Hot Shot. Kicker had definitely spotted a gleam of sadistic pleasure in Demolishor's eye when he told Kicker to wait outside as though he were back in elementary school. Of course, he had taken Kicker's bike inside with him, but Kicker was strongly tempted to bolt down the hall while no one was looking. But in the end, he stayed put, so when he finally heard Hot Shot say, "Thank you Demolishor. You can return to your post," Demolishor was able to shoot him one last look of triumph before he heard Hot Shot shout, "Kicker! Get in here!" Kicker pushed himself off the wall with a deep breath and walked in.

Hot Shot was standing against the console when Kicker entered. Around him, enormous flickering screens displayed different feeds from the security cameras all around Ocean City, including a few displaying the bright blue sky. Kicker tore his gaze away from the screens and smiled at Hot Shot, but all he could manage vocally was a small, "Hey…"

Hot Shot's face was grim. "Kicker, is what Demolishor told me true?"

Kicker shrugged while feeling the back of his neck grow hot. "That depends. What'd he tell you?"

"Did you really try to sneak out in Roadblock's trailer?"

Kicker decided the cloud drifting across one of the screens was worth staring at after all. "Yeah," he muttered.

"And you drove off when they told you to stop?"

"Yeah."

 _"And_ you made Roadblock go get you?"

"Yeah."

 _"And_ you drove on the left side of the road?"

"You gonna give me a ticket, officer?"

"Kicker this isn't funny!" Somehow, Hot Shot's injured expression was worse than either Roadblock's amusement or Demolishor's anger. "You could have seriously hurt yourself! You delayed the shipment, and you made Demolishor and Roadblock stop their work to come after you!"

Hot Shot sighed and rubbed his brow with his fingers. Kicker stewed in the silence.

"Where'd you put the Energon you took out of the trailer, anyway?"

"In the theater," Kicker mumbled.

Hot Shot frowned. "When did you do that?"

"Last night."

"By yourself?"

Kicker grinned nervously. "Yeah. I used a cart."

"Don't look so proud of yourself, Kicker. Don't you realize that what you've done today is illegal?"

The smile Kicker had managed dropped off his face. "I'll tell you what ought to be illegal!" he said, his voice rising, "Holding a teenager against their will! Don't you think that's a punishable offense, Hot Shot?"

Hot Shot groaned. "Oh, for crying out loud-"

"Don't give me that!" Kicker was shouting now. "Other people get to leave this city when it surfaces, but I haven't been out in years! You never let me go in here! I'm fifteen, I'm not a kid anymore, and I'm _definitely_ not your prisoner!"

"Kicker!" said Hot Shot, "You know why we can't let you leave! It's for your own safety!"

"Not that line again! The war's been over for years! It was over before I ever met you!"

"It isn't just the war!" said Hot Shot, "We need you on site, Kicker! We're still digging here, and without your power-!"

"'We can't find the Energon,' I know it!" Kicker glared at Hot Shot. "All this talk about 'my safety,' it's all just a front! You're not trying to protect me, you just want to keep me on a shelf! I'm not a tool, Hot Shot!"

Unexpectedly, Hot Shot's expression grew somber. "I know you're not," he said.

Kicker was breathing heavily. Hot Shot didn't seem to be able to meet his eyes. The seconds dragged on.

"Look," he finally said, "If you really want to leave the city, I'm not the one you need to convince. You need to talk to Optimus. He's on Cybertron; you know how to reach him."

Kicker smirked. "Thanks," he said, "I think I will-!"

"And!" Hot Shot cut him off, turning the blue light from his optics right on him, "You need to talk to your parents."

Kicker looked down. "But… can't Optimus-?"

"They're _your_ parents, Kicker," said Hot Shot firmly. _"You_ need to talk to them." He turned back towards the console. "I guess that's all. You can go."

Kicker was halfway to the door when Hot Shot added, "Oh, and I'll be notifying your mother what you've done."

Kicker groaned. "For real? C'mon, Hot Shot, I've already had three lectures today!"

"Well, it's about to be four. Bye!" Hot Shot raised a hand in farewell without turning around.

Kicker heaved up the loudest, most long-suffering sigh he could and trudged out the door. It wasn't until he heard the door slide closed behind him that Hot Shot turned back to gaze at the spot where the boy had been.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

*Demolishor distrusts your youthful demeanor.

Hello, folks! It's been a while since I last attempted a Transformers work.

For those of you who don't know, _Transformers Energon,_ the sequel series to _Transformers Armada,_ is not only widely considered one of the worst Transformers shows of all time, it might very well be one of the worst _anime_ of all time, _period._ Sure, other shows might have more unpalatable content or more offensive points of view, but when it comes to sheer incompetence, _Energon_ wins every time.

Recently, on Tumblr, I saw someone express the rather enthusiastic desire for someone to try to make Energon again, except redone so that all its flaws were fixed and the epic story it was trying to tell could shine through.

And to that, I went, "OKAY."

So, here it is, the rewrite of Transformers: Energon! I'm really excited to share this with you guys! Feel free to leave any criticism you can think of! We're gonna have a lot of fun, here, so I hope you stick with me 'til the end!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

None of the bots of at the Mimas Energon mine had actually seen Saturn since they'd landed.

It seemed counter-intuitive and was more than a little disappointing. Saturn had looked incredible through Tidal Wave's portholes, and the sight of the massive body glowing faintly in the distant sunshine was enough to inspire awe in even the least enthusiastic of their number. But once the ship had touched down on the tiny gray moon, the landscape had obscured the planet, and it had not been seen since. The Omnicons were not terribly bothered by this. Their work was underground, and what was displayed in the heavens above was not relevant to the job. But to the Cybertronians patrolling up top, the absence of the one remotely interesting aspect of their assignment was a source of much grumbling.

Instead, the Mimas sky offered nothing but the grainy stars and blackness. No clouds, no blue sky, and a chilling cold without wind. A brief daylight managed to reach Mimas, but the sun was so far away that it only appeared as a grimy spotlight cast by a slightly larger star that covered the cratered land in a lurid yellow glow, the result of which was that the day was even more morose than the night.

Right now, it was night. The stars struggled to be seen behind the blue-white stadium lights that illuminated the work site. On some days, the grounds were filled with activity, ships landing to take away the latest shipments of Energon, workers of all kinds and alt modes busying themselves with bundling and loading the cargo, but today was not a loading day, and in the absence of any purposeful movement on the moon's surface, the land appeared to be nothing but an extension of the void above.

The sharp blue light over the mining station was blocked by a massive shadow that formed a long cutout over the crater floor. Tidal Wave stood before the lights in robot mode, keeping his unmoving gaze on the distant stars. Tidal Wave easily towered over the lights that shined above the heads of the others and had no trouble looking beyond their glare. The only problem was thanks to where he was standing, the rest of the Cybertronians were walking in the dark.

"Hey, Tidal Wave! You mind moving?"

"You're in my sun!"

"Come on, man, have a little consideration, here! How am I supposed to get a tan?"

Tidal Wave didn't move or in any way respond to the ribbing hurled at him from below. None of his hecklers were surprised. It was a common joke on Mimas that Tidal Wave was so tall you had to use a comlink to talk to him.

One Autobot was unsatisfied with Tidal Wave's lack of response and walked up to him. Standing at the feet of the massive Decepticon, the Autobot didn't even reach up to his knee, but the grin he flashed in a general upward direction was as friendly as could be.

"Yo, Tidey! How's the weather up there?" he called. "Same as down here? Good, good. Hey, they figure it's going to hail here tomorrow. What do you think?"

Silence. Tidal Wave didn't appear to have heard.

The Autobot pressed a hand to the side of his helm, activating his comlink. "Hellooo? Any bot home? C'mon! Liven up this conversation with your bubbly personality!"

Tidal Wave's end of the line buzzed faintly. The orange Autobot hailed him several more times. A staccato of beeping echoed through the line.

"Hello? Hello? Operator?" he said.

Two other Autobots heard the noise and came over.

"Hey, Sandstorm, are you sure that's a good idea?" said one nervously. "Maybe you should knock it off."

Sandstorm turned, grinning. "Nah, he likes the attention. Don't you, big guy!" he called upward at Tidal Wave. "You like us, right?"

Tidal Wave didn't move an inch. Sandstorm turned back to the other two. "See? That means he likes us."

Before long, all three were yelling up at Tidal Wave.

"Hey, Tidal Wave! I'm thinking of a number between one and ten! Can you guess it?"

"Tidal Wave, how many times would you need to jump up and down before you cleave this rock in half?"

"C'mon, Tidal Wave, say something! What's with the silence? Did you die up there?"

"I think he's dead, bro."

"Hey, Tidal Wave! If you died, would you tell us?"

The Autobots' laughter could be heard clearly within the open doors of the mining station. Embedded in the wall was a large screen on which a young Decepticon was silently typing in his report. His optics flickered over in the direction of the commotion before flicking back to the screen, slightly narrowed. "I wish they wouldn't be so noisy," he muttered.

Another Decepticon sitting at a control panel nearby peered out in the direction of the voice. "Hey, Bonecrusher," he said, "Taking a break?"

"Yeah," said Bonecrusher, without looking over.

The other Decepticon, whose name was Sledge, shrugged. "Me, I prefer work, personally. At least it's something to do."

Bonecrusher tapped the screen one final time and looked in Sledge's direction. "When's the next ship come in?" he asked.

"Not for another few rotations. Sorry. But hey, look at the bright side. Maybe they'll transfer us out of here, yeah?"

"It wouldn't matter if they did," said Bonecrusher quietly. "There isn't anything anywhere else, either."

Sledge made an exhalation that sounded like a laugh. "Already jaded at your age," he said, "How do you manage that?"

At that point, a hail of loud clunks sounded from outside the station. The Decepticons looked and saw the Autobots pelting rocks at Tidal Wave's ankles. Each rock bounced off harmlessly and fell dully to the icy floor. The Autobots were whooping and hollering, ducking and dodging around each other as though in a war zone.

Bonecrusher snarled in disgust. Sledge laughed. Bonecrusher heard his voice rise and fall as he walked past his doorway. Crescendo. Decrescendo. "Well, can what you expect? You can't keep a bunch of kids cooped up like this and expect them to sit still. _Whoa,_ now-!"

Bonecrusher turned back toward the station's entrance. The walls and ceiling framed the scene outside as though it were a movie screen. A tremendous splintering of dusty glass had reverberated through the valley. The Autobots' laughter dropped away, replaced by a chorus of "Whoa!"s and "Hey!"s in a pacifying chant. Bonecrusher saw. Tidal Wave had moved.

The Autobots had stopped their capering and were huddling together at the heels of the titanic Decepticon, whose back now eclipsed the light over the station as his faze remained fixed on the sky.

Sandstorm recovered first. One rock still remained clutched in his hand. "Aw, don't be like that!" he called, "You getting sulky on us?"

Tidal Wave didn't spare the Autobot a single glance. Bone crusher heard the whirr of his canons raising themselves into position. The Autobots moved back with varying degrees of speed, their protestations increasing in volume and frequency. The rock dropped from Sandstorm's hand.

"Whoa, easy big guy!" he called, "Look, I'm sorry. It was just a bit of fun! We didn't mean anything by it, honest."

But Tidal Wave wasn't even facing the group, and the colony of guns across his chest couldn't possibly hit the Autobots just behind him. Bonecrusher's optics followed the title of Tidal Wave's head up to the vault above, where the stars were gleaming through the shadows and glaring lights.

"Hey!" He turned back toward Sledge, who was watching with his mouth open. "Can you see anything on the radar?"

Sledge hastened to his console. Bonecrusher followed. "No!" said Sledge, "There's nothing."

Bonecrusher ducked his head back outside, one hand on the doorframe. Tidal Wave attention was still fixed skyward. "Maybe he just saw a star he didn't like," he heard Sledge muttering.

But the Autobots seemed to have the same idea as Bonecrusher. All three of them were scanning the sky now, peering over each other's shoulders and under the canopy of Tidal Wave's hand. Sandstorm's call up to Tidal Wave was now of a decidedly different tone: "Hey, what are you looking at, anyway?"

They didn't appear one at a time as at dusk but in a cluster: a new constellation of stars, orb-like in shape and bright yellow. Soon, the land pulsed with the daylight of twenty Mimas suns. An alien rushing filled the space around which continued to light up as though placed in an oven being turned up and up.

Bonecrusher heard the explosion but never saw the impact; it was too fast. Soon, screams filled the air as the volley of blasts continued to spatter, each hit sending shards of crystals into the air.

"We're under attack…" Bonecrusher was standing stock-still as the words left his mouth, the surface of his purple optics blooming with the lights in the sky.

The console before Sledge crackled and spit. "Sandstorm to Control, turn off the lights! We can't see a thing out here!"

Bonecrusher turned towards Sledge, who for a moment seemed to have his gaze fixed on nowhere at all. But in an instant, he pressed the console and said, "This is Control. We read you," and the lights went out.

The Cybertronians stood in total darkness. No longer caught on the plate of the spotlights, the group outside stood watching the skies as a fine rain of glassy powder settled on them. The headlights of the Autobots winked on as they cast their cones into the sky, now using the lights instead of glaring into them. At first, the beams disappeared into the void, fated to be blocked by nothing for billions of miles, but then a shape passed in front of the Sandstorm's beam.

He narrowed his optics and continued to sweep his spotlight back and forth. There again was a flash of color, appearing briefly like the light caught in a diamond before disappearing. "Did you see that?" said Sandstorm.

"No," called another. "What was it?"

Sandstorm didn't answer. The circle of light continued to move slowly, tracing an invisible path, and he managed to catch one last glimpse of what seemed to be a disembodied black mouth full of fangs below a pair of malevolent yellow eyes before he was crushed to the ground.

Sandstorm screamed. The other two looked over to see him desperately struggling with what appeared to be an oversized metal cat, its claws ripping into Sandstorm's armor as its tail swung back and forth. It was snapping viciously in the space just above Sandstorm's throat as his hands shook with the effort of pushing its head back, his fingertips scraping against its gray armor. His fellow Autobot barely had time to comprehend what he was seeing before something sharp seared past his temple. He wildly cast up his own lights and revealed the white outstretched wingspan of a robotic bird of prey, which shrieked as it wheeled before the stars.

The Autobot flicked his arm as though unrolling a sleeve and a blaster slid into his hand out of a compartment on his forearm. When the bird began to fire, he was ready and returned shot after shot, forcing the bird to duck and weave and miss.

But at that moment, the Autobot felt something sharp dig into his back before an enormous weight forced him to the ground. Pain tore into him as he heard the spitting of another catlike creature in his ear, and he looked up in time to see another metal bird circle to join the first.

"They're carrying them," he muttered into the ice, hardly knowing what he was saying. "They're carrying them and dropping them off…"

Meanwhile, the other Autobots were busy. "Hang on, I'm gonna get that thing off you!" the third one yelled. Sandstorm grimaced with the ache in his arms as his friend produced his own weapon and fired. The shot slammed into the animal's back. A fountain of armor fragments erupted from the smoking crater as the beast went limp and slipped off of Sandstorm's body. Sandstorm sat up, blinking. "Eh? Just one shot?" he said.

His savior grinned and fired upon the creature tearing into the second Autobot. It too broke after one shot, and the Autobot pushed it off him.

Above the trio, Tidal Wave moved. A volley of light erupted from his cannons and with them there was a cluster of explosions and animalistic screaming as a mass of unseen beasts were blown apart.

More catlike robots were landing all around them, but the Autobots were no longer afraid.

"You're not so tough once you're out in the open, are you?" Sandstorm taunted.

The three stood back to back, the barrels of their weapons forming a triangle. On all sides, glinting claws pushed forward a swarm of pointed, snarling jaws.

"Don't worry about aiming, boys," Sandstorm advised, "Just shoot fast!"

And they did. The Autobots were circled on every side but at this distance, they couldn't miss. One after another, their attackers fell, until the bodies formed a ring around them. And lighting them from above were the bursts from Tidal Wave's cannons that caused entire clouds of invaders to sprinkle dust on their heads. For too short a time, the battle took on almost the atmosphere of a game as the Autobots felt the creeping thrill of an easy victory.

But then, it seemed, one of the raptors eluded Tidal Wave's sights, and Sandstorm felt it violently collide with the side of his head, almost pitching him forward. He heard a scream behind him as another dived, throwing sparks from the wounded shoulder of his comrade. Sandstorm gave an irritated hiss and transformed. "Man the fort, I'm taking this fight to the air!" he shouted, as the other two felt a stir of wind from the orange helicopter lifting into the darkness.

The spotlight on the front of the chopper swung onto another raptor and before long, Sandstorm propelled after it, whooping as his blasters flared. But in the next moment he found himself swinging dangerously as another bird slammed into him, clinging to him with talons and beak.

"Oh, for the love of-! Get off of… Wha-?"

Sandstorm's indignation was replaced with mute confusion as the reflection on his windows steadily grew a brighter yellow. It seemed the creature latched to his side was glowing from within, and the glare shined through every crack and crevice of its armor. At the same time, his auditory receptors were assaulted with a high-pitched hum that rapidly grew in frequency. These two sensations, both lasting less than a second, were his only warning before the bird detonated, sending him crashing to the ground in a column of smoke.

On the ground, another Autobot looked up at the explosion long enough for a wildcat to leap over the barricade of its fallen brethren and seize the Autobot in its jaws. It too lit up violently before blowing apart, sending the Autobot flying back as his windshield shattered.

Within the base, Sledge and Bonecrusher heard the hysterical screams. "They're bombs! These things are bombs!" Bonecrusher gnashed his teeth and made as if to charge forward.

"No!" Bonecrusher looked back, startled, before a heavy rifle landed in his arms. He blinked at Sledge, who was looking stern. Holding another weapon in one hand, Sledge slammed something on the control, and the thick door leading outside began to slowly groan closed.

"Bonecrusher I need you here!" he was shouting, "If those things are after the Energon, they might come here for the mine! I need someone to help me hold the door!"

The uncertainty in the younger Decepticon's face vanished. "Right," he said, nodding. He watched as the edge of the door finally slammed into place.

Outside, things continued to worsen. The three Autobots lay overwhelmed in quivering heaps. The swarm, still massive despite its many sacrifices, flowed to the stacks of Energon already mined, whose standard group of guards now seemed laughably inadequate. The Autobots and Decepticons fired desperately, but no matter how many they shot down, it always seemed to be only half. They watched as each raptor landed atop the nearest crate and lifted off with their talons puncturing the lid. One Decepticon managed to hit a flyer just as it was hoisting up a crate, and as it dropped it, the crate spilled open, dumping its glowing contents over the shoulders of his Autobot comrade, who screamed in pain as smoke curled up from his armor.

Another call came in through Sledge's console. "They're taking the Energon! They might try the mine, next!"

Sledge nodded grimly at Bonecrusher. "You ready, kid?"

Bonecrusher was staring straight ahead at the steel door, his rifle already at his shoulder, a look of utmost concentration on his face. "Yeah," was all he said.

They were expecting it, but both still jumped when they heard the sound of a heavy body slamming into the door. Outside, a wildcat was clinging vertically to its side. It was soon joined by another cat and then a bird. Then all three began to glow in unison, and the door was blasted in.

The shockwave pushed Sledge and Bonecrusher back as they covered their optics from the debris, and that was all the time the creatures needed. Several raptors flew in, scraping the ceiling with their wings as the cats bounded off the walls and to the floor.

Two by two, the charred bodies fell as the Decepticons wildly swung their weapons. The corridor filled up with blasted metal and smoke as the lights in the creature's optics went out. While Sledge shot more sporadically, hitting wings and legs as the beasts tried to dodge out of reach, he noticed, even in the chaos that surrounded him, that Bonecrusher's shots always seemed to hit dead center, blowing apart chests and heads and absolutely nothing else. And for this precision, the younger bot's firing rate was slightly slower than his own, and soon Sledge's kill outnumbered his.

And while he was noticing this, he was thrown to the ground as a cat landed on top of him, causing his weapon to fly from his grasp.

With a cry of rage, Bonecrusher slammed the butt of his gun into the head of the beast. Its optic flew to pieces as it roared. Heaving himself up, Bonecrusher smashed his elbow into the crown of its ruined head, and the creature's body gave one final shudder before stopping forever, and Sledge noticed that the sound that hissed from between Bonecrusher's teeth sounded almost like a scream.

But Bonecrusher had turned his back, and the swarm flowed past them both into the dark corridor beyond. Bonecrusher pushed himself up and lifted his weapon to his shoulder again, but Sledge twisted and caught his ankle.

"Don't!" he yelled. "If those things blow in the mines, the entire mine will go up!"

Bonecrusher looked down at Sledge, his optics flashing, before he slamming his fist into the wall hard enough to make it ring.

Inside the rocky walls of the mine, the Omnicons looked up at the rushing sound that rapidly approached them. Dozens of pairs of identical eyes set in identical faces turned up towards the echoes. "They're here," muttered one.

As soon as the first beast landed on its feet, it was chaos. The Omnicons were unarmed - had, in fact, never held weapons - and the attackers seemed conscious of this as they completely ignored the bots all around them and streamed toward the Energon. There was much impotent shouting and grabbing of tails as the beasts pulled past the hapless workers and hoisted up crate after crate. One Omnicon swung a pickaxe at a cat and spent the next minute in a futile game of tug-of-war when the animal caught it in its mouth. Soon, the small number of crates were gone, and the creatures began to swarm toward the open veins of Energon glowing in the rock.

"Hey, watch out!" an Omnicon shouted as he saw a cat dive headfirst for a vein. "That stuff's dan-!"

But to his shock, the beast began to crunch the Energon in its teeth like a tiger with a turtle's shell. As he watched, amazed, a glowing yellow star manifested in a socket on the back of the animal.

"You guys can touch it, too?" he marveled. "What _are_ you, fella?"

The beasts began to swarm back up and out en masse, the stars on their backs glowing like fireflies against the cavern walls. From within the control room, Bonecrusher and Sledge watched as the birds dropped onto the backs of the cats and swept them into the air, both carrying out the Energon not in containers but on their own bodies.

Only one soldier was still fighting, and it was Tidal Wave. Bursting hits from his cannons continued to erupt across the sky like the spatter of rain. With the stars gleaming on their backs, the beasts from the mine were even easier targets, and the explosions when they were hit were huge, lighting the faces of the wounded below like a fireworks display. From where he lay, Sandstorm cheered.

"Yeah! Go, Tidal Wave!" he hollered. "Show those mangy pests what you're made of!"

A particularly successful barrage punctuated those words, and soon every Cybertronian on the ground was cheering and shouting Tidal Wave's name. A cluster of beasts rose up on his right side, and he swung a titanic hand through the air, swatting them to the ground like insects.

But one bird far above his head wheeled back around and dropped the cat it was carrying. It snarled with its claws outstretched before it latched itself to Tidal Wave's brow and detonated. The Energon star on its back more than tripled the force of the explosion, and the Autobots below screamed in fear as Tidal Wave fell to one knee, clutching his ruined optic.

Another bird seemed to get the idea and bore both itself and the cat it was carrying into Tidal Wave's side, and the shockwave from this blast slammed the Autobots on the ground with a wave of burning heat. Tidal Wave tottered where he knelt, and Sandstorm and his companions ducked with their heads under their arms, completely incapable of moving to safety.

Again and again, the invaders destroyed themselves against Tidal Wave, and after a final flurry of shots were thrown into the stars, Tidal Wave finally was reduced to swinging his arms and twisting his neck and torso, trying to shake off the beasts that were now clinging to every space they could find on his body. Soon he was covered with so many pairs of flapping wings, he seemed to be nothing but a writhing mass of them. Watching from the ground, Sandstorm feared for one horrified instant that all the beasts would explode at once, reducing Tidal Wave to shrapnel, but his horror only mounted when he realized that wasn't what was happening at all.

"No way…" his friends heard him mutter.

Bonecrusher stepped over the empty shells of the beasts strewn over the floor of the base. He turned his gaze up to the sky.

"I don't believe it…"

The denizens of the Mimas mining station could only watch as Tidal Wave was borne away into the velvet sky.

* * *

Far away, there was a resounding crash of metal on metal and a cry of "Oof!" as another Autobot was thrown to the ground.

The red and blue blinked up at the sunny Cybertronian sky, which was above his head second ago but now seemed to be directly in front of him. His sparring partner stepped into view, casting a shadow into his blue optics.

"Need a hand, Ironhide?" she said.

Ironhide grinned sheepishly. "Uh, yeah," he said, "Thanks." He propped himself up on one elbow and took her hand.

"You two!" Both bots stopped and turned their heads in the direction of the bot walking rapidly toward them. "Jetfire, sir!" said Ironhide.

Jetfire's optics were sparkling. In his opinion, not enough people called him "sir." "What happened there, Ironhide?" he asked.

"Um…" Ironhide wasn't sure what the correct answer was. "I think Firestar beat me, sir," he finally answered.

"Sure did!" said Firestar.

Jetfire laughed. "And how did she do that?" he asked. "You're a lot bigger than her."

It was true. Not only was Ironhide taller, but with his combined bulk and door span, he was at least three times as wide as Firestar. Ironhide rubbed the back of his helmet. "Well, I'm not sure…" he said. "Um, I sort of tried to grab her like this…" He demonstrated, circling one arm around Firestar's shoulder. "And then she kind of spun around and then… uh…" He stopped.

"Firestar, help him," said Jetfire.

Firestar shrugged. With her back to Ironhide, she slowly hooked one foot around his ankle while pulling his arms forward until they were crossed in front of her chest. Then she pushed her foot forward, causing Ironhide to sway, then bumped her elbows into his chest.

"Like that, remember?" she said.

"Oh, right." Ironhide looked up at Jetfire. "She did that, sir."

Jetfire rolled his eyes. "Nice answer, Ironhide," he muttered. "So, how did that make you fall?"

"I… um…" Ironhide seemed to be thinking hard. "Well, I lost my balance, I guess…"

He had the wounded look of one who knows they've given a stupid answer, but to his surprise, Jetfire seemed pleased. "Right!" he said, pointing, "You lost your balance! You're top-heavy, Ironhide. When you lose your base, it's hard to stay upright. She knew that and used it against you! Firestar, you can let go of him now."

She did so.

"Okay," said Jetfire, "So, now that you know what she did, what can you do to stop it?"

"Well…" Ironhide put out his arms again, and Firestar went into the same leisurely spin. "What if I…" Pushing out his lip musingly, Ironhide swept his own leg into Firestar's ankles, catching her mid-spin. He caught her as she gasps and stumbled, and before she had time to recover herself, Ironhide had pressed her back to the ground with one hand, holding her arm straight above her head with the other.

"Like this?" he said, looking up eagerly.

Jetfire nodded. "Good," he said, as Ironhide helped her up. "But remember you two, an attacker who knows what they're doing won't use the same strategy every time, and they certainly won't give you more than one chance. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!" said both simultaneously. Jetfire beamed.

"Alright, keep at it!" he said.

But at that moment, a red truck pulled into the square, and every pair of trainees stopped what they were doing and looked up.

"Oh!" Jetfire turned to group. "Stand at attention, you guys!" Everyone immediately straightened and pulled up into a salute. Ironhide in particular wore an expression practically glimmering with adoration. The truck transformed, and Optimus Prime stood before the group.

Jetfire went right up to his leader and loudly clapped him on the shoulder. "Optimus! We weren't expecting you! You shoulda' warned us you were coming. Might've cleaned the place up."

Optimus chuckled. "Sorry, Jetfire. I just wanted to see how everyone was coming along."

Jetfire rolled his optics. "Oh, I'm trying my best, sir," he said, "But with this bunch, I can't promise much."

"Hey!" someone in the back shouted. Everyone laughed.

"They seem to be coming along fine from what I've seen," said Optimus warmly. "And I'm sure you're a wonderful teacher." He turned to the group. "What do you think?" he called.

"Yes, sir!" they all chorused at once. Jetfire looked away, stung.

"Well, I don't want to keep you for long," said Optimus, "But if there's anything at all you need, please don't hesitate… Ah."

Before Optimus could even finish, Ironhide arm had shot straight into the air, his hand flapping as though he were trying to shake a bug off of it. Jetfire raised a brow as Optimus patiently answered, "Yes, Ironhide?"

"Uh, Prime, sir?" Ironhide was stammering in a fusion of enthusiasm and fear. "I was wondering why there aren't any Decepticons in this group."

Nobody made a sound, but the sudden discomfort was clear on the faces of everyone one of his fellow trainees. The once relaxed group shifted as if buffeted by a breeze as its members shifted feet or turned their heads up at a cloud that had suddenly commanded all their attention. Jetfire's optics narrowed. "Because this is an Autobot class," he answered simply.

"But the war's over," Ironhide pressed eagerly, "So shouldn't there not be a difference anymore?"

"I _know_ the war's over, but that doesn't mean-"

"Actually, Jetfire," Optimus interrupted, "I think that's a fair question."

Jetfire looked at Optimus with misery, as though he couldn't believe he was doing this to him. "Please, sir," he muttered, "Not here."

"Why not here, Jetfire?" said Optimus, not making any attempt to keep his voice down.

"Well…" Jetfire's optics slipped helplessly to the trainees and back, "Well, _because-"_

But at that moment a small yellow car, that would have been large if it were controlled via remote, turned a corner with its tires squealing and pulled into the square. Every head turned to follow it as spun towards the Autobots and pulled up before Optimus Prime.

"Sparkplug?" Jetfire said wonderingly.

A series of digital beeps began to chime from the car.

"What's he saying?" Jetfire asked Optimus.

Optimus's optics were widening. "There's an emergency transmission from Mimas," he said, "It seems they were attacked this morning."

A murmur immediately rippled through the young recruits as they turned to one another.

"Hey, hey! Quiet!" Jetfire called sternly.

"I need to hear this myself," said Optimus. Without another word, he transformed.

"Sir!" said Jetfire, "I'm second-in-command. If there's been an attack, I should go with you."

"I agree," said Optimus. "Sparkplug, lead the way."

Sparkplug pealed out with Optimus following close behind. Jetfire swung his gaze rapidly between them and the wide-eyed trainees.

"Um, you guys stay here. Don't move until I get back!"

With that, he transformed and flew off after them.

The group erupted as soon as they were out of sight.

"An attack? Now?"

"Mimas? Where's that?"

"Saturn. Same system as Earth."

"That's a long way from here…"

"Who was it?"

"The Deceptions of course! Who else?"

"There were Decepticons on that base!"

"Maybe it was them. Inside job."

"They've been there for months! If it was them, what were they waiting for?"

Firestar turned her head to the space next to her. "So much for the war being over, huh Ironhi-?"

She stopped. The space was empty. She looked around at the rest of the group. He wasn't there, and he was hard to miss.

"Hey!" she called, "Where's Ironhide?"

As if in response, her audio receptors suddenly buzzed with the revving of an engine. She turned in time to see a bulky blue truck pulling around the same corner that Optimus and Jetfire had disappeared behind.

The entire group stared blankly.

"Did he just-?" Firestar said weakly.

"Yup," said someone else, "He did."

* * *

 **AN:**

This chapter is long. My bones are gray. My teeth are gnarled.

In _Transformers: Energon,_ raw Energon is actually highly corrosive to Cybertronians. However, Omnicons can touch it, lick it, date it, whatever. That's why they need the Omnicons to do the mining. Hopefully that came across in the text.(..?)

I meant to upload this chapter a lot sooner but Jesus Christ battle scenes are hard to write. Why did no one tell me this?

Mimas is totes a real moon of Saturn. You've probably seen a picture of it; it's that moon that looks weirdly like the Death Star. Seriously, look it up if you haven't seen a picture of it. It's uncanny.

I don't know if any of the self defense techniques used by Ironhide or Firestar are actually correct. Please get self defense tips from someone who can actually teach self defense.

Critique is always encouraged and in fact desperately needed. Please review, and I hope you enjoy!


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